Take a bow

Who else has little actors for kids?

MOPS was this morning. One of the few outlets I have to relax and socialize without my kids, or at least Keaton (Mark was strapped to me in the Moby all morning, as usual). Still...it's something I get for ME every other week, and I really look forward to going. I try to warn Keaton at least 24 hours ahead of time that MOPS is coming up. He's been going through a little separation anxiety ever since Mark was born. I think MOPS is especially hard for him because his first visit there was the day I went into labor with Mark, and he went with Karen and Lucas. I think he secretly thinks that every time he is left at MOPS, I'm going straight to the hospital and he won't see me the rest of the day.

"Hey Keat, guess where we get to go tomorrow? MOPS! We love MOPS, remember? They have Veggie tales there, they have Lightning McQueen, and Lucas will be there (the clincher)!"

He's usually okay with it as long as it's something we are doing TOMORROW. But, when TOMORROW becomes TODAY, that's when the real struggle begins.

"Mama, what are we doing today?" (he asks this every morning)

"MOPS! Remember?"

"No, mom. I just wanna stay home and play with my caws!"

"You love MOPS, remember? They have Veggie Tales, Lightning..." My whole schpeel -

"Mom, by belly HUTS! I'm sick to go to MOPS today!"

This goes on and on all morning, as I dry my hair, brush my teeth, dress him. It escalates as we pull into the church parking lot. Then the tears come.... he begs, he pleads, he cries, pulling at my hand as we cross the church lot. Then we reach the MOPPETS door. Oh boy, here comes the dry heaves.

"MAMA, DON'T LEAVE!!! DON'T LEAVE!!! MAMA, HOLD ME! HOLD ME!"

Thankfully, there is this great MOPPETS worker named Kiera who knows Keaton and seems to like him. I help Keaton find Lucas, sit him down in front of Veggie Tales, but he can't really see through the snot and tears. He just keeps clinging, pleading, crying like he'll never see me again. I leave him in Kiera's arms, his arms reaching out for me, the dry heaves still in full force.

As much as it kills me, I walk away, because there are friends, fellowship, food, and holiday-flavored coffee creamers waiting for me in the sanctuary. Just for the heck of it, I turn around and peep my head in right after I have left. He doesn't notice. He's already down on the floor playing with Lucas. No tears, no heaving.

Bravo, little boy. What a show for Mom!